Troop 53 was a group of about 30 boys ranging in age from 11 to 16 who met every Wednesday evening, after dinner, in the basement hall of Saint Jeromes Church in North Weymouth.
To say that we were a rag-tag group is a disservice to cloth constructed articles everywhere. Were we misfits? Certainly.
Troop 53 was a Boy Scout Troop in the same way that The Bad News Bears was a baseball team. We wore the uniforms, we earned badges and said the oath...but for us, it was all about camping.
Not KOA plug-in-concrete-slab-campsites with built in charcoal barbecue set and power hookups with community bathrooms, running water and flushing toilets...that's not camping…that’s a motel with a view.
No, I’m talking about real camping…the kind that requires that you travel into the wilderness, away from technology and civilization.
When I left the scouts somewhere around 1978…I didn’t stop my wilderness camping, back then we mostly went hiking. We hiked the Presidential Traverse of the White Mountains: …Mounts Madison, Adams, Jefferson, Clay, Washington at 6,288 feet, Monroe, Franklin, Eisenhower, Pierce and Jackson…then to the north and the Abol Trail in township 3 range 9 West of the Easterly Line of the State in the North Woods of Maine, past Thoreau Spring to the summit of Mt Katahidin, the finish line of the Appalachian Trail, or the AT as we called it.
I’ve hiked to the Lakes of the Clouds hut on Mount Washington where I spent the night and watched at dusk as the clouds poured into the Great Gulf Wilderness like syrup filling a bowl, and had snowball fights at the top of Tuckermans Ravine in the middle of July.
With only the food and equipment that would fit into my backpack, I hiked ten to 15 miles a day across Vermont, Upstate New York and Northern New England.
If the story of the last ten years of this podcast was compared to The Lord of the Rings Trilogy of running adventures…the story of my identity as “Steve Walker” which began after my cross country - track and field days of high school and before I ran my first 5K in the Spring of 1999 is equivalent to “The Hobbit”.
Steve Walker “There and Back Again” is the prequel to Phedippidations.
Back to the Boy Scouts.
When I joined Troop 53, I was issued a copy of the 8th edition of The Scout Handbook.
“This book, based on the experience of the Boy Scouts of America in the United States since its founding in 1910, was developed under the auspices of Norton Clapp, President and Alden G. Barber, Chief Scout Executive.
The Scout Oath of Promise was made at the beginning of every Troop meeting.
On my honor
I will do my best
To do my duty to God
and my country and
To obey the Scout Law
TO help other people
at all times;
to keep myself physically
strong,
Mentally awake, and
morally straight.
I’m not making this stuff up.
Then we’d recite something called “The Scout Law”
A Scout is:
Trustworthy
Loyal
Helpful
Friendly
Courteous
Kind
Obedient
Cheerful
Thrifty
Brave
Clean and
Reverent
That’s me…Clean and Reverent.
Anyway…I’ll spare you the mind dumbing pre-military training indoctrination…because for our Troop….uniforms, Flags, Oaths and Laws were pretty much a joke: we were in it for the camping.
One of the first awards that I earned in the Scouts was the Hiking Skill Award. This metallic belt buckle award was something I received after meeting certain requirements learned in the Scout Handbook, starting at page 191.
“To begin with there are some places that are not safe to visit. Stay away from construction sites and gang territories. Don’t hike on roads with heavy traffic and don’t hitch rides”
So far, it makes perfect sense does it not?
“Always hike in groups of three or more. It is safer. If you are hurt, one person can go for help. The other fellow can stay with you. Walk single file on roads. Keep to the left so that you can see the traffic coming toward you.”
Again, good solid hiking advice here. The book continues:
“The safest drinking water on the hike is in your canteen. If you must refill it, use water from a faucet. If in doubt, boil for 5 minutes. Or use water purification tablets, following directions on the container.”
Back to the Handbook:
“Watch your step: solid is the word for the place to step. So don’t walk on loose rocks or logs. They could turn and twist your ankle. Solid is a good word to remember: if you are climbing, solid handholds and solid foot holds make for a safe climb.
Landmarks - Watch for landmarks. Different buildings, tress, vacant lots can help. Landmarks tell you where you are. Without them you could become lost. Study a map of where you are going. Take a map and compass with you.”
These days…it’s all about the smart phone and GPS.
Sunshine: “In summer the sun can spoil a hike. Protect your head and eyes. Wear light clothing. Use a cream or lotion on exposed skin.”
“Shadow Stick” you can find directions without a compass. On a sunny day, drive a stick into the ground so that tit makes no shadow. Within 15 or 20 minutes a shadow will appear at the base of the stick. The shadow will point to the east”.
I love this one…and, its actually one that I remember and to a certain extent, use daily.
Although it should be intuitive to all of our species that the sun seems to rise in the east, traveling along the ecliptic to set in the west…you’d be surprised to learn how many people are unaware of this fact. The stick trick is a good one, but if you have a time piece with you, of any sort…a good general rule is…if it’s morning, the sun is in the east, and if it’s afternoon, it’s closer to the west. If you’re facing in such a way that the west is to your left, then you’re facing north. That’s it. If you’re ever lost in the woods, but have a pretty good idea of what direction you can from or should head towards…if the sun is out, you’ll never get lost.
The next item in the Scout Handbook is a useful one, and one which leads to a personal story of which I’ve retold through the years with much mirth:
“Railroad tracks are dangerous. Don’t walk along the tracks. Keep away from railroad bridges. A railroad is private property. Not a road”.
So, here’s my story.
We were in three canoes, traveling down the Saco River in the northeastern edge of New Hampshire. The year was 1982 and the day we put it, it was pouring rain. So bad was the rain, that we ended up having to make camp near Crawford Notch Rd, route 302 in Harts Location New Hampshire in the White Mountain National Forest.
It was a cold and rainy night as we pulled out tents together to try to cook some kind of a dinner. We went to sleep in our soaking wet sleeping bags as the rains subsided and the few hours of restless sleep lasted only an hour or so until morning.
In the morning, the skies had cleared, but the sounds of roaring water down stream was of concern. Our maps shows a short “water fall” emptying into a gorge ahead…so I and one of the least intelligent human beings I have ever been cursed to know…a guy we’ll call Jackie….rhymes with “hackie”…and I'd like to give him a good "smackie" took a short hike towards the source of sound which sounded suspiciously like a roaring waterfall, while the rest of our happy campers packed the canoes for the rest of our excursion.
 |
| Nancy's Gorge |
So that settled that, I thought: We would have to portage…that is, carry our canoes, gear and selves around the gorge of water to a safer entry place about a mile downstream…an effort which would take most of the day to complete.
But Jackie thought differently. I guess when you’re as dumb as a rock…which I admit is an ad hominem attack on geological matter…you can look at something like an EFFING water fall, and think that it would be an easy matter to navigate said rapids gently to the lower level of the water. That's what happens when you don't understand science and kinetic energy or the psychics of trajectory. Jackie thought that Speed Racer's Mach 5 was an actual real car with an auto jack that could make it jump over short distances...look it up if you think I'm kidding and you'll understand what I was dealing with that day.
Like I said: Jackie is, the overwhelming evidence will prove: an ass.
Suffice it to say that we, in our canoes, went over the falls….most of our equipment was lost, all of
our canoes and bodies suffered damage. I was in the last canoe watching as the others floated away, but it was too late for me to avoid the falls…which has always made me wonder: who was Stupider…the guy who convinced us all to take a canoe ride over a waterfall named “Nancy’s Gorge” or the paddlers who went along with the stupid idea.
But I’m telling you this true story to demonstrate the good sense revealed in the Scout Handbook section about railroad tracks, because you see…with all of our equipment soaked and the bangs and bruises still fresh upon our flesh…our canoe trip down the Saco was over….and we moved into survival mode.
Have I told you this story before? Probably...but it's worth retelling here.
When were had gathered all of our stuff at the bottom of the waterfall, we decided that the right course of action would be to get all of our stuff up, out of the river and try to find a place were we could move our cars so we could pack up and leave.
Fortunately, we were very close to the aforementioned Crawford Notch Rd, aka route 302...but there was a small catch...at the top of a the cliff we would have to climb out of...dragging our canoes and soaked gear behind us...was a set of rail road tracks, owned an operated by the Conway Scenic Railroad.
So you can imagine my horror when, as I helped to carry my gear and canoe out of the gorge...I saw that Jackie...do you remember Jackie?
“Railroad tracks are dangerous."
"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted at the befuddled Jackie. "Get that crap off the tracks!" I exclaimed just as the whistle from the Notch train blew. Yes..of course, the train was coming.
I'm not making this stuff up. This really happened.
We did manage to get our stuff off the tracks just in time before the train flew by...but I often wonder would might have happened if I hadn't explained to Jackie the consequences of Mass times acceleration. I'm being kind when I tell you that he was the dumbest human I ever knew.
So, once again: the Scouts were correct. Train tracks bad.
Back to the handbook.
“ Lightning - in a storm, stay away from lone trees. Lightning hits tall trees. Hilltops and rock ledges are not safe either. Low spots away from tall objects are safer places.”
Which reminds me of the first time I summited Mt. Katahdin in Maine. We had climbed the Abol
Trail for most of the morning and afternoon, arriving at the summit at about one o’clock. We had a quick lunch of some kind of canned meat product and were enjoying the view when we noticed, down below us…some gathering dark clouds which were starting to rise back towards us.
Having never seen a Cumulonimbus cloud from 5,267 feet…we enjoyed the spectacular view of the oncoming storm, until we realized that it was going to hit us hard and fast. We ran down the mountainside as quickly as we could, amid the instantaneous flashes and crashes of the lightning that exploded all around us.
Good times. Good times.
“Ice - Be careful crossing the ice. It must be thick enough to support you. River currents and lake springs make dangerous thin spots in the ice”
Which is advice that I most definitely ignored as I and my merry band of troop mates slipped and slid across the chunks of frozen seawater ice rising and falling with the tide along the Fore River of Weymouth. The ice would stretch to about a quarter of a mile out into the ocean inlet and we would hike atop the foot thick ice with nary a worry. The handbook be damned…we were invincible.
Your Hike Plan
Who needs a hike plan? You do. Anybody can just walk. What is the idea for your hike? Where are you going? What will you wear? What will you need? Other people need your hike plan too. They need to know where you will be and when you will come back.
Don’t forget -
Extra socks, handkerchief, emergency dime, map and compass, toilet paper, pencil and note pad, adhesive bandages, a watch.
There’s alot more in the Scout Handbook regarding Hiking that might be useful, or probably not…so I’ll finish up with the section of “what to wear”.
Clothing for a Hike
A Scout uniform is not required, but you cannot find a better outfit. It is comfortable. It is tough. And it stands for something. It says that you are a Scout. That’s important, because people respect Scouting.
Watch your feet - Shoes or boots should fit well. Don’t wear new shoes.
A quick story here. About 24 years ago, just before I got married, some friends and I, including the dude known as Dick Leone, went for an epic hiking trip in New York State…I don’t remember exactly where…it was a beautiful hike that lasted a good four or five days… but I had made an epic mistake.
I had purchased a cheap pair of work boots to wear on the hike…some awfully constructed faux leather plastic pair of monstrosities that, with every mile, dug into my ankles and back of my foot…leaving my my feet bloody, blistered, and aching for much of the 40 mile hike.
“Socks should not have holes or darned places”. (what’s a darned place?) These might cause blisters. Take extra socks in case your feet get wet.”
Stay Dry - Be prepared for rain. A poncho or raincoat and rubbers will keep you dry.
Which reminds me of a song…
I did achieve the Hiking Skill Award in a ceremony at Camp Child, in Plymouth Massachusetts...yes, the same Plymouth where the Pilgrims landed.
I had a great time in the Boy Scouts of America...not because I liked wearing a uniform, and I honestly didn't give a crap about awards and so forth....but the camping was awesome. We camped in the summer, Autumn, deep snowy winter where I learned to make a reflector fireplace, and the Spring. I have alot of great stories to tell you about my Boy Scout Days, and I will...but not today.
Today, I wanted to give you a sense of the background of my life as an outdoorsman...and when I call myself an outdoorsman, it's not what you think: it's a very minimal approach to camping. I hope I've accomplished that.
One final thing that the Boy Scouts taught me, was to always bring out more than you brought in...that is, when you come to a campsite and there's any evidence of human attendance...a scrap of paper, a nail, maybe a torn trash bag, or a half used pack of matches....take them out with you...leave the place cleaner than it was when you got there.
I miss camping in the wilderness. I miss it dearly and deeply...and I want to go back...so very very much...because out there, there's beauty, out there there's adventure...sure there are bugs, and bears and rain and hard work just to have a warm meal...but it's all so worth the effort and expense.
My inner Thoreau yearns to return to the wilderness where I'll be called to keep myself physically strong, Mentally awake, and morally straight.
The dose of realism that I need to leave you with today, in regards to all this walking that I've been talking about...it this: I've got to be honest with you, there's not alot of confidence on my part that I'm ever going to get to return to the wilderness of Thoreau.
My inner Thoreau is calling to me, but I'm not sure that I can respond to the call...now or ever. I'm in my own "special" kind of wilderness.
Now, That's the nihilist realist in me speaking. Can you hear that complete lack of passion in my voice? It sounds alot like this:
It's okay, I'm doing alright...I've got alot of really good things going on in my life: my wife and I are celebrating our 24th wedding anniversary this Summer, my son Mat and his wife Julie will be having their first baby: my new grandson yet to be named, my two puppies 8 year old Indiana Jones and 7 year young Eva Jones are both healthy...my sister beat cancer and I'm Mom's working on it...I have some good friends, a great job, a nice house, two cars...and lots of stuff.
I want to go off on a tangent here about the stuff, and I'll reel it all in at the end.
You see, "The Stuff" is not important...I like the stuff alot: honestly...it's fun stuff. Gadgets and gizmos to keep me occupied, to fill up my hours and help me focus on things that don't really matter all that much.
Doctor Who for instance. I love that show, but does it really matter? I'll deny it in public but...no, it doesn't...not really. The Doctor Lies...Baseball...damn, where would I be without baseball? Seriously...without baseball I just...I can't imagine a world where there isn't a ball game to watch and focus all of my thoughts on...I used to have Church, but I'll be honest: baseball is pretty much the same thing: we stand, sing a few songs, dress up in special clothes with special hats and pass around a bag of peanuts...I've got my Macbook Air, airpods, iPhone, iPad, iCloud, eye glasses, I've got a Kindle, Fitbit, giga-bits, drone, phone, and lost and lots of stuff, it's just stuff.
Walking is not stuff…I know, Thank You Captain Obvious…but it’s worth being aware of the Easterlin Paradox, named after the economist Richard Easterlin who showed that a higher level of a countries per capita gross domestic product doesn’t correlate with greater self-reported levels of happiness with it’s citizens.
Money can only buy you happiness up to a point.
Dr. Thomas Gilovich, a psychology professor at Cornell University who specializes in the study of money vs. happiness writes that “We buy things to make us happy, and we succeed. But only for a while. New things are exciting to us at first, but then we adapt to them.”
Gilovich has found that what really keeps us happy: the thing that we get the most happiness from…more than STUFF is, experiences.
He writes that ““Our experiences are a bigger part of ourselves than our material goods, You can really like your material stuff. You can even think that part of your identity is connected to those things, but nonetheless they remain separate from you. In contrast, your experiences really are part of you. We are the sum total of our experiences.”
In my present state, in the "special wilderness"…I just don’t have the desire or passion to do much these days…but I am forcing myself to get out there, and maybe right now that’s enough.
I don't have alot of confidence that I'll be climbing Mt. Katahdin any time soon, but that mountain and the AT aren't going anywhere: either am I. We've got plenty of time. And for now at least, that's enough.
I’m Steve Walker, reminding you that solvitur ambulando.